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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23581387">The Traitor and the Spy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/riselioness/pseuds/riselioness'>riselioness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Secrets and Shadows: A Handmaidens Anthology [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bargaining, Bars, Drinking, Espionage, Fulcrum, Fulcrum Agents, Gen, I know nothing about spies, Spies, negotiating, recruiting to the Rebel Alliance, recruiting to the Rebellion, this did not stop me writing this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:15:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,737</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23581387</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/riselioness/pseuds/riselioness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Not long before the start of the Galactic Civil War, Fulcrum agent Cassian Andor faces what might be his biggest challenge yet: convincing High Consul Eirtaé Veruna to leave the Empire behind, and join the fledgling Rebellion.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cassian Andor &amp; Eirtaé, Eirtaé/Quarsh Panaka, Naboo Royal Handmaiden(s)/Quarsh Panaka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Secrets and Shadows: A Handmaidens Anthology [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697467</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Traitor and the Spy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this a couple of years ago, and am finally releasing it into the wild :) If you like both Rogue One and the handmaidens, this is for you!</p>
<p>I’ve got a number of handmaiden fics at various stages of WIP-ness, and I’m hoping that amongst *gestures vaguely around* all this, some of them will make their way to completion. So please consider subscribing to this series if that tickles your fancy :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She’s late.</p>
<p>He doesn’t need to look at his chrono to know it, and he learnt long ago to suppress the kind of gestures that could betray nervousness. Not that he’s nervous, exactly, but he never knows if they will show up until they do. Or don’t.</p>
<p>Lateness isn’t unusual, of course. He knows there can be many good reasons for it, but sometimes he wonders if they enjoy making him wait.</p>
<p>Cassian Andor drains his glass and signals to the bartender for another. He’s not a superstitious man - far from it - but ever since that first time, when he ordered a Corellian brandy and had the evening go so well, it’s what he’s always drunk on these kind of occasions. Apart from that time he tried Twi’lek liquor and only just made it out the bar.</p>
<p>He’s just taken his first sip of his second brandy when she walks in. He’s never met her before, only seen her in holos, and he can’t see her face under her deeply cowled hood, but he can tell it’s her just from her bearing.</p>
<p>After that first glance he looks away, and goes back to gazing into his brandy. He senses rather than sees her approach the bar, then she seats herself next to him and orders a Cheedoan whisky. His cue.</p>
<p>He turns to her. “I’d recommend the Tevraki instead.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“The Tevraki whisky. This is one of the last places on Coruscant you can still get it.”</p>
<p>“I happen to prefer the Cheedoan.” Her voice is steady, but her hand trembles ever so slightly as she adjusts the clasp of her cloak. “My aunt drunk Tevraki.”</p>
<p>“My uncle drunk Cheedoan.”</p>
<p>The pass phrases exchanged, he heads over to a table in the corner. She joins him shortly after, drink in hand.</p>
<p>Despite her heavy robes, Cassian can tell that High Consul Eirtaé Veruna is even more striking in person than she is in the holos. She’s around the age is mother would have been, and she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. The faintest of wrinkles frame her startlingly blue eyes, and her pale, perfect skin seems almost to glow under her hood. She takes a sip of her whisky and her hand is steady now, under control.</p>
<p>Cassian isn’t sure how to begin. He never is. Even after all these years, he still feels the knife-edge uncertainty at the beginning of each meeting. In some ways it’s the best part, this anticipation at the start of things, before action has to be taken, and lives changed forever. But meeting someone for the first time, and immediately having with them the most important conversation of their life - the weight of that has never lessened.</p>
<p>He knows enough to inform his initial approach. As a high-ranking Imperial, she will be used to being in a position of command, and certainly every man of his age she would normally meet would be subordinate to her. She’s nervous and vulnerable, feeling an unfamiliar sense of powerlessness. So he needs to give back to her at least a temporary illusion of power.</p>
<p>“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” he begins. “Given the circumstances I think we’ll dispense with introductions, and names. I know who you are, and I think you can infer all you need to about me by the fact that I am here.” He smiles at her, and is rewarded by the tiniest twitch of her lips. “This place is as safe as any for this kind of conversation, but we must be cautious.”</p>
<p>He takes another sip of his brandy, and replaces his glass on the table. “This is your time, to spend as you wish. You might have questions you would like to ask me, or things you wish to tell me. Or you may wish simply to vocalise some of the thinking that has brought you to this point. It is up to you.”</p>
<p>Her gaze is steady and unreadable, but Cassian has the distinct sense that she is taking his measure as much as he has taken hers. She folds her hands in her lap. “If you know who I am, then you have some idea of what I have put at stake simply in meeting you here. Let alone what I would risk in joining you. You have more experience of this than I do. So tell me why I should join you.”</p>
<p>So it’s going to be even more of a challenge than usual. “Of course.” He swirls his brandy in the glass as he thinks. She has given him nothing extra to go on, so he’ll have to work from what he knows.</p>
<p>“You and your husband have been in service to the Empire ever since it was founded. You have served it faithfully and well, and I know the effort you have put into restoring order after the fall of the Republic. And don’t think I bear any love for the Republic: it had long since ceased to function, and had become a bloated and soulless institution that worked only to preserve its own existence. I was once part of the Confederacy of Independent Systems; I fought for the end of the Republic as we knew it. But I didn’t fight for this Empire, and I don’t think you did either.</p>
<p>“The Empire claims to have brought order, stability and security to the galaxy, but it is a lie. Every day hundreds, thousands of people die in the name of that order, and everyone is living in fear that they will be next. Everyone. The Empire is a ravenous beast that feeds off its own people, killing some and enslaving all, and never, ever being satisfied. We both know the Republic had to end, but for it to be replaced by this? The Empire must fall, and only through armed rebellion can this be achieved.”</p>
<p>Her eyes haven’t left his. They betray nothing, but her very lack of reaction tells him what she’s thinking.</p>
<p>“But you know all this already. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t thought it all a hundred times before. You don’t need to be told why everyone should join us, and I don’t think that’s what you’re asking. I think what you are asking is why you should join us.”</p>
<p>Her face remains expressionless, but he knows he’s right.</p>
<p>He leans forward. “You can bring things to the Rebellion that no one else has brought us so far. You have information that would be of vital importance to us. Your security privileges are far above any we have previously had access to. Your professional and personal knowledge of senior figures could tip the balance in our dealings with them. In joining us, you would do more to bring down the Empire than any defector has so far.” She flinches at the word defector, but she will hear it soon enough if she joins them, and she needs to get used to it.</p>
<p>“And beyond this, the value of your desertion to the morale of the Rebellion would be unparalleled. A High Consul, and not only that but the wife of Moff Panaka himself - your joining us would be proof that the Empire is not as strong as it tries to pretend, that it can and will be toppled. Of course we would keep the news quiet for as long as possible, to maximise the time your security clearances are valid for, but once the truth became known, the Empire would find the resulting loss of face extremely hard to recover from.”</p>
<p>He raises his glass to his lips, but barely tastes the brandy. Her expression hasn’t changed, and he knows he hasn’t said anything she hasn’t already been thinking. He takes another sip, and this time he makes a conscious effort to savour the warmth that spreads through him, focusing on the sensation in order to re-centre himself. He puts the glass down with a little thunk that seems disproportionately loud in the silence between them.</p>
<p>“But there is one more reason you should join us.” It’s a risk and he knows it, but he's learnt when to trust his instincts. He leans forward, and lowers his voice even further so there’s no chance of being overheard. “In your youth, I believe you served Senator Padmé Amidala when she was Queen of Naboo.”</p>
<p>She straightens in a sudden movement that reminds him of a startled animal. “I did. What of it?”</p>
<p>“Do you know we call her the Mother of the Rebellion? I was very young when she died, but I have met many people who knew her, and they are all unanimous in their praise of her. A number of your sister handmaidens have joined us over the years. Some have died in service to the Rebellion, and some are still with us.”</p>
<p>Her blue gaze is colder than it has been in any point in their conversation so far. “Who?”</p>
<p>“I’m afraid I’m not authorised to -“</p>
<p>“You are authorised to do whatever is necessary to achieve your objective. Is that not true?”</p>
<p>It’s almost true. He is so close now. She’s still here, she’s listening to him, and now he has something he can give her, something she wants.</p>
<p>“Ellé Fenn and Motée Sellia died in the upheaval of the establishment of the Galactic Empire - we believe they were targeted because of their close association with the late Senator. Saché Callan and Yané Tenda joined Rebel cells early on; Saché died in the field, and Yané remains one of our most skilled pilots. Dormé Vellis was in a Rebel cell for years, but was killed in an Imperial raid on Kiros. Sabé Mesada has been working for the Alderaan government on Bail Organa’s staff for years, and has only recently joined us on base.” He’d done his homework, though he hadn’t planned on disclosing all of this.</p>
<p>“And Rabé?”</p>
<p>“As far as we know Rabé Kerda is still alive in the Outer Rim, but keeping out of the Rebellion’s way in order to protect her family.” He has to work hard to keep the contempt from his voice.</p>
<p>She turns her head so that her face is hidden again in the shadow of her hood. When she faces him again, he knows something has changed. In every conversation of this kind there is a tipping point, a moment that, looking back, was the moment that the decision became inevitable, but he’s never certain what that moment is until it’s happened, and the decision made. Was that it?</p>
<p>“If I did decide to join you - what would happen next?”</p>
<p>He exhales slowly, hoping she didn’t notice he was holding his breath. He leans back in his chair and swirls the remaining brandy in his glass. “We would first need to arrange your extraction. It's probable we would need to stage an accident, fake your death. That would conceal your defection for as long as possible, and maximise the validity of your access codes and so on. Then you would be taken to a Rebel station, for assessment and briefing. Then we would take things from there. You understand there is a limit to what I can say at this stage.”</p>
<p>She nods, once. “This accident. What risk would there be to others? To my staff and colleagues, and to bystanders?”</p>
<p>“Minimal. We would make every possible effort to avoid unnecessary loss of life.” That’s a lie. Of course he and his superiors would ideally prefer to avoid excess deaths, and civilian casualties would be regrettable - but some are inevitable. And he’d kill a hundred Imperial employees himself if it was necessary to secure her defection. </p>
<p>“There’s one more thing.” He hesitates. “You would be of immense value to the Rebellion, as I’ve already said. But some of my comrades may not see it that way. They may be - wary. Many of us in the Rebellion have a past in the Empire, one way or another, too many for such a past to prevent integration. But, with your current high rank -”</p>
<p>“- I may face a greater stigma.”</p>
<p>“Possibly.” He gazes, unseeing, into his glass. It’s a risk to speak so plainly, but it would be a greater risk to send her to the Rebellion unprepared. It’s vital that she knows something of what life would be like: if she joined the Rebellion and felt he had misled her regarding the true cost, there would be a very real danger that her dissatisfaction could cause her to turn double agent.</p>
<p>He continues to rest his eyes on the golden spirit, allowing her time to deliberate free from his observation. When she next speaks, there’s a new, tentative note in her voice.</p>
<p>“You must understand, if I joined you it would be at significant personal cost. My husband -” she stops abruptly. He expects her to continue, but the silence stretches out.</p>
<p>Eventually, he ventures to prompt her. “I was given to understand you and you husband have been estranged for some time.”</p>
<p>“Then you have been misinformed,” she says sharply. “It is true that our relationship has been . . . strained of late, and that there has been a growing disparity between our views on certain matters. But when all is said and done, he is still my husband. I am not sure how familiar you are with the ways of the Naboo, but that is not something one walks away from easily.”</p>
<p>She runs a finger up and down the side of her glass. Now they’re coming to the final barrier. “And there is another matter.” She looks him directly in the eyes. “My daughter.”</p>
<p>Her daughter. Like many of the offspring of high-ranking officials, Ria Veruna, daughter of High Consul Eirtaé Veruna and Moff Quarsh Panaka, is a full-time boarder at one of the top lyceums, receiving the best education available while also, to the unspoken knowledge of all involved, serving as a hostage to ensure her parents’ good behaviour. He knew this would be an obstacle to her defection, and if he can overcome it, he’s won. Surely.</p>
<p>He can’t prompt her on this one. He’s had intelligence that Ria has shown some Rebel sympathies, but he can’t let Eirtaé know this if she doesn’t already.</p>
<p>“What will happen to her, if I join you?”</p>
<p>“Nothing. If you join us, you will join as an individual - your daughter would not be involved. As for the Empire - well, everyone will think you are dead, so there will be no cause for any suspicion to fall on her. And when it becomes known that you are still alive - the Empire would not harm the daughter of Quarsh Panaka, even if she was a way to hurt or manipulate you.”</p>
<p>She starts tapping a finger on the table. She must be really anxious now, to let it show like this. She looks over his shoulder for a few moments, eyes focused on nothing, then her ice-blue gaze snaps back to him. He can’t breathe.</p>
<p>“I will join the Rebellion - if you will also extract my daughter.”</p>
<p>Every hair on his body stands on end, and his senses are on high alert. She has demanded the impossible. He has to talk her down, she has to join them without this condition. Not just for the good of the Rebellion, or his own personal prestige (which matters more to him than he would ever admit) - if she decides not to join them, she now knows far too much for him to allow her to walk away.</p>
<p>(It happens like that sometimes, and he does what needs to be done, but he’s never comfortable with it. It’s easier when they become aggressive, because then he can fool himself that he’s acting in self defence for just long enough to pull the trigger.)</p>
<p>He’s too close now for this to fail.</p>
<p>“You have reason to believe she wants to join us?”</p>
<p>Eirtaé hesitates, and his heart sinks. “I believe it, yes. You understand, we have not been in a position to discuss this freely. But from things she has said - I believe her thinking mirrors mine.”</p>
<p>He really wants a swig of brandy, but doesn’t dare move as he knows his hand would shake. “The lyceums are among the most heavily-guarded facilities in the Empire. Extracting a student, at least at the current time, is simply impossible. But, longer term, there are ways and means. Within a few years -“</p>
<p>“Within a few years we could all be dead. I will not wait, and I will not give way on this. If you really want me, you will give me my daughter.”</p>
<p>The thrumming in his head blocks out all sounds from the bar, but he can think as clearly as ever. Extracting Ria will involve activating several agents, including at least two sleepers. It’s almost guaranteed that these agents will be found and killed, and even if by some miracle they escape, what future opportunities will have been missed by activating them early? And all to extract one person, whose loyalty is far from guaranteed. There is no way Draven will agree to it.</p>
<p>But he’ll have to.</p>
<p>“Very well. We will extract your daughter.”</p>
<p>“When?”</p>
<p>“It can’t be immediately.” She opens her mouth and he cuts her off before she can speak. “That really is impossible. However we manage the situation, if it happens too close to your disappearance it will draw attention. If there is even a hint of suspicion that you are still alive, your security clearances will be invalidated, and we will lose much of the vital information you would bring.</p>
<p>“When?” He’s afraid now, truly afraid. If she won’t listen -</p>
<p>“By Empire Day”. He seizes the date almost at random - it doesn’t matter what he says, he just needs to get her to agree. She’s still uncertain. He leans forward. “If you join us, by Empire Day you will be reunited with your daughter. I promise you this.”</p>
<p>The moment holds. Then she looks down, and he could faint with relief. He’s won.</p>
<p>“It appears I have no choice.” She meets his eyes again, and her blue stare is resolute. “I will join your Rebellion.”</p>
<p>He raises his glass to her. “I’ll drink to that.” She hesitates, then chinks her glass to his. In unison, they drain their glasses. In the brief warm rush he lets himself close his eyes, and when he opens them he finds her scanning the room, her face taut.</p>
<p>“Trouble?” he asks her.</p>
<p>“Not yet.” She’s right. They’ve been in this bar some time now, and the longer they stay, the greater the danger. All at once they both want to leave, and soon. “What happens next?”</p>
<p>“You leave. I leave. You go about your business as normal. You must not change your behaviour at all, do you understand? The slightest change could raise suspicions. When the time comes, we will extract you.”</p>
<p>“When?”</p>
<p>“I can’t say. Not for at least a couple of weeks.” In reality it will probably only be a few days, but she mustn’t expect it. “And before you ask, no, I don’t know how it will happen.” It’s not his job to arrange her extraction - they have specialists for that - but it’s likely his colleagues will arrange some kind of transport “accident”, faking her death while removing her to a rebel outpost.</p>
<p>She nods, slowly. “I understand. And my handmaiden? What will happen to her?” Eirtaé’s handmaiden is a Rebel agent, and the reason why she is sitting in front of him.</p>
<p>“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss that. Do not say anything to her about our meeting, anything at all. She will know not to ask.”</p>
<p>She nods again.</p>
<p>“Is there anything else you want to know?”</p>
<p>She smiles, actually smiles, for the first time. “Many, many things. But I suspect I will find them all out in the fullness of time.”</p>
<p>He is suddenly filled with admiration for the woman in front of him. It’s rare for someone to so readily accept the uncertainty of this in-between time. “That is true. In that case -”</p>
<p>“Our conversation has reached its end?”</p>
<p>“Our conversation has reached its end.”</p>
<p>“Will I see you again?”</p>
<p>“Probably.”</p>
<p>“Then I will see you on the other side.”</p>
<p>She stands, and Cassian resists the urge to watch her go, instead fixing his eyes on the bottom of his glass. Right at the end he allows himself one glance, and sees her cloaked and hooded figure making its way through the bar. He looks down again. In a few short days, she will have joined the Rebellion. Either that, or -  He refuses to let himself consider the alternatives.</p>
<p>He needs to leave, as soon as he can, but he has to wait a while to avoid arousing suspicion. He returns to the bar, and motions with his glass to the bartender, who refills it. He takes a sip, then another, and then knocks the rest back in one mouthful. It’s no warm rush this time, but a sudden blaze of fire in his veins. He orders a fourth brandy and drinks this one more slowly. By this point he doesn’t know if he’s steadying his nerves after the strain of the evening, or celebrating its success. He pays up, and heads out into the streets.</p>
<p>He weaves his way through Coruscant’s lower levels, a little drunk, but alert as ever for danger. In one alley a tall shadow detaches itself from the deeper gloom and falls into step beside him, but he doesn’t flinch.</p>
<p>“Well?” asks the shadow. “How was it?”</p>
<p>Cassian grins up into the droid’s face. “Glorious, K2. It was glorious.”</p>
<p>“You’re drunk,” he observes. “You’ve never been drunk before.”</p>
<p>“Not on duty,” he admits easily. “And it won’t happen again, so need to get your circuits in a tangle. Where’s tonight’s safehouse?”</p>
<p>“Close by, luckily for you. Follow me.”</p>
<p>Cassian inhales deeply, never a pleasant experience on Coruscant, but right now he barely tastes the fumes. If all goes according to plan, this will have been the most successful moment of his career so far.</p>
<p>A treacherous thought creeps in despite the brandy’s comforting warmth. How long will he be living this life of shadows and whispers and fear? He pushes the thought away. He knows how long he’ll be living it for.</p>
<p>As long as it takes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m a dyed-in-the-wool handmaiden fan, but I somehow really like the idea that they didn’t all remain true to their original ideals. Eirtaé makes her way back in the end, but she spends years, maybe decades, on the wrong side. When she joins the Rebellion, she’s leaving behind not just her husband but the friends and colleagues she’s been working and sharing her life with for years, and the cost is greater than she’ll admit to Cassian.</p>
<p>I’ve shipped Eirtaé and Panaka for years. It started when I read the (now lost in the Unknown Regions) fic “Entrapment at Caveat” by Red One, where they had GREAT chemistry. I have a lot more Eirtaé head canon, which I’m hoping will emerge in future fics.</p>
<p>I’ve loved Cassian since first seeing Rogue One, and I find his character more and more fascinating as time goes on. It was fun to write him here and bring him into contact with one of our girls :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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